“You hear that?” he said to Airy. “The maid knocks at the door of this room because it is not a public but a private room. She knocks at our bedroom doors also. She does not knock at the dining room or the parlor door. That is one way of being respectful. Now see how politely she will answer me when she enters,” and he said in a clear voice, “Come in.”
Jennie stepped inside and stood in her neat gown and white apron looking expectantly at him.
“Has a parcel come for me this evening from the druggist’s?” inquired the Judge.
“Yes, sir, quite a large parcel. Would you like to have it here?”
“No, thank you; in my bedroom.”
“Very well, sir. Is that all?”
“Yes, Jennie; but no—go to the sitting room and ask Master Dallas to come here.”
“Certainly, sir,” and with a pleasant look she closed the door and went away.
The Judge looked at Airy. Her lips were parted, her eyes were intense.
“Now you will see a polite, respectful boy,” he said, and at that instant there was another knock at the door.